The short hand that kept
close anyone sober,
The idea that allowed my
friendship to be burned over and over.
Just a silhouette, faceless and nameless,
But the same one that has
claimed so many cases.
Causing me to think that
any sister to knock on my door,
That is earth, that is wifie, thats the
one for sure.
This fear has claimed so many
brothas just like me,
The one that being lonely has
become reality.
Written By: Scott
Young